The Abandoned House
by Goma-Ryu
Summary: Captain Treville ordered the Musketeers and d'Artagnan to take a week off to an abandon house that used to belong to his friend for relaxation. But this house holds a mystery and it's not looking good for d'Artagnan.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **So, it's been almost maybe four years since I've written fanfiction so I'm sorry if I'm rusty. Also, this is what happens when you are looking for Disney's The Three Musketeers and come across bbc The Musketeers. I've never seen the episodes (sadly I don't have bbc America) and I'm waiting for my DVD to arrive when it comes out so all I have are everyone's awesome stories to go by and what Youtube has. So if anyone can direct me in the right direction so I know more about the show, characters and episodes that might help me, I will give you a cookie.

**A/N 2:** Also, since I haven't seen the episodes and I know that d'Artagnan becomes a Musketeer later on but can we all pretend that he's still in training to becoming a Musketeer? Just for the story? Thank you.

**Disclaimer:** The Musketeers belong to bbc. No me :(

* * *

"You know, I'm not sure what the meaning of a week of relaxation is in Gascony but here it means no trouble," Athos grinned, watching as Aramis poked around the bullet wound on their youngest shoulder. Captain Treville had called them in a few hours ago and pretty much ordered them to take a week away from the garrison and away from the Cardinal.

"It means that ever since I've gotten in with you guys there has been nothing but trouble for me," d'Artagnan said threw clenched teeth. Of course of all days the bandits had to pick today to start an ambush. It was a small group and everyone seemed to have made it out okay in the end when the bandits ran off until on bandit that had left, came running back and just shot the first person in his line of vision, which happened to have been d'Artagnan. Needless to say, said bandit never made it back to his buddies.

"Well, I'll need to get the bullet out but I would rather do it somewhere clean and I think Captain Treville said the house is close to where we are now," Aramis said, smiling as he picked up the bandages Porthos had brought over for him and started to wrap the wound. He made sure it was tight and helped d'Artagnan put his jacket back on before getting him to his feet.

"You okay to ride?" Porthos asked, ready to offer him a ride on his horse.

"Yeah. The faster we get to the house, the faster this blasted bullet can get out of my shoulder and I can finally beat Athos."

"Even on your best of days, d'Artagnan, will that never happen," Athos laughed, making sure his friend got on his horse alright before getting on his. He looked around and felt the wind pick up a little. "Captain said it was a few hours ride from here so I think we might be getting close." He took off in the front, knowing Aramis and Porthos would make sure d'Artagnan stayed in front of them. They didn't need anything else happening to the boy until they got that bullet out.

"So now that we are away from ears, why did the captain order us away?" Porthos asked.

"All I heard in his grumbling was all the crap we've been through we need to get away before we scare off all the new recruits that are coming this week," Aramis said with a grin. "I'm actually going to miss training the new recruits."

"Surely you guys can't be that bad," d'Artagnan said, being a new recruit himself and yet somehow, he was ordered to go with them on this mini vacation.

"Heavens no," Aramis said. "My boy, we are the best teachers ever."

"Yes, if you call Porthos sending five recruits to the infirmary the first day they arrived. One had four broken ribs, one left with less teeth in his mouth, two ended up with a broken leg, and the last had a broken hand." Athos said.

"What of you?" Porthos said back. "The very first recruit that trained with Athos there was seen shaking in the corner with his hands and face all cut up from the sword."

"Poor guy didn't stand a chance. He couldn't even go on the defense with how fast Athos was swinging his sword," Aramis added in. "I think the next day when Captain Treville asked who wanted to spar with Athos the entire group stepped back and refused."

"If they think an enemy is going to go easy on them then they were wrong," Athos said, defending himself.

"What about you Aramis?"

"He made those men try to shoot the targets from the oddest areas around the garrison. He had them feet away from the target and they never got close. Then he took them out into the woods, set up a target in a clearing and told them a good Musketeer can hit the target with obstacles in the way and had them go into the woods and made them try to hit the target through a tree," Porthos laughed.

d'Artagnan shook his head and laughed. He can see how the captain wanted them out while the new recruits were being trained. "So does that mean I'm here because he wanted someone to keep an eye on you three?"

"Please. You're here because he doesn't want to see us train you in our own special way," Aramis said, riding up to d'Artagnan and patting him on the shoulder. "This week, we're going to train you the right way so by the end of the month you will be an official Musketeer."

"I thought being shot made it official?" d'Artagnan asked, moving his arm a little to get feeling back in it but winced when it pulled on the wound.

"You're half way there," Athos said, pulling his horse to a stop. "I think that's it." He pointed to a large house in the distance, away from all the paths and surrounded by trees. He could see a barn and what could be a shed.

"Very nice," Porthos said. He took off in front of the three, laughing as he called them slow over his shoulder. The three just looked at one another and urged their horses to go after Porthos. It was a rather long run but in the end, Athos had won.

"Well, that was a rather fun ride but I think d'Artagnan will feel much better with that bullet out of his shoulder," Aramis said, getting off his horse and handing it over to Porthos. He griped d'Artagnan by the elbow and led him into the house. Luckily the house was furnished and he had d'Artagnan sit at the table while he pulled his medical kit out of his bag.

"Not a bad place," d'Artagnan said, looking around. The house had a small kitchen, which Captain Treville said was stocked with fresh food, a living room and family room. He saw the stairs going up so he hoped they all get separate rooms. He gasped when Aramis started cleaning the wound with some alcohol. "Damn it to hell."

"Language," Aramis smirked. "I think you've been spending too much time with Porthos at the bar."

"Just wait until we play cards."

For that, Aramis dumped more alcohol on the wound, laughing at the colorful language that was coming out of their young companions mouth that would put his mother to shame. He looked up when the door opened and in came Athos and Porthos with the rest of their bags. "Ah, right on time."

"Fun part begins then," Porthos laughed, rubbing his hands. They've all be on the receiving end of Aramis digging bullets out of them and no matter how tough you are, you need someone to hold you still.

"Yes, and we are having a talk about the language you're teaching our young boy," Aramis said. He waited until Porthos held d'Artagnan down in the chair by the shoulders and dug the dagger into the wound, feeling for the bullet.

"Holy hell you son of a bitch!" d'Artagnan gasped, trying to get away from the hands that kept him in the line of Aramis. Since he couldn't get up his hand automatically went to push Aramis away but leave it to Athos, who seemed to know what was going to happen before it happened, had already grabbed his hands.

"You weren't joking," Athos grinned. He watched Aramis reached and pulled the bullet out of the wound. Before d'Artagnan could calm down he cleaned the wound with alcohol once more.

"Now for the stitching," Aramis said, getting his needle and thread. He watched as Athos moved around the kitchen, opening cabinets and heard glass clinking together before a bottle of wine was in his face. Taking a swing he handed it to d'Artagnan and began to stitch the wound. Porthos didn't need to hold him down for this.

"There's a barn, shed, and well out back," Porthos said. "Horses are fed and watered so it's nothing but relaxation."

"Looks like a storm is coming in too," Athos said, walking around the family room. "Heard thunder so it won't be long now."

"Not like I do much anyway," d'Artagnan said, wincing with each stitch. "What about rooms upstairs?"

Porthos took the stairs two at a time and looked around, hand on his pistol. Just because the captain told them no one was there, didn't mean it was going to be empty. There were three rooms, one bed in two of them and two small beds in the other, and walked down the steps. "Two will have to share but it's separate beds."

"What about food?" Aramis asked, finishing his stitching.

"Firewood in the other room and a pot as well," Athos said. "Since Porthos knows how to make the best stew, he's in charge of cooking." He watched as Porthos smiled and grabbed what he needed for the stew and walked into the other room to get cooking. He was about to follow when a door caught his eye. They've checked outside and Porthos checked upstairs so that left this door they missed. He walked over and tried to open it but it didn't open.

"Locked?" d'Artagnan asked, walking up behind Athos.

"Yeah. We'll find a way down later."

* * *

That night, the storm finally hit, the rain coming down in sheets and lightning striking every two seconds. The four of them where sitting at the table, stomachs full of food and now in a "friendly" game of cards.

"Porthos, I sear if you are cheating I will throw you down that well," Aramis said, watching as Porthos took most of his coins once again. Athos still had a few left and whatever Porthos didn't win, d'Artagnan took. "That goes for you too, d'Artagnan." He frowned at the innocent look d'Artagnan gave him.

"Not to worry Aramis," Athos said, looking at his cards. "We already have to save Porthos from the noose when he cheats and there is no way in hell am I going to save d'Artagnan so when we get to the garrison, you two are no longer allowed out unless you're with one of us."

"Oh yes, leave Aramis alone with the boy for an hour and you'll be saving him from an angry husband in no time," Porthos said.

"He's already pushing that," Athos said, laying a card down.

"Not as bad as Aramis," d'Artagnan said, defending himself. He folded when Porthos raised the bet. He looked up when he thought he heard footsteps upstairs. Since they've started the game, he's been hearing footsteps above them but his friends haven't said anything so he just kept it quiet.

"You okay?" Aramis asked.

"Yeah. Trying to keep my mind off my shoulder." To prove his point, he tried to move his arm to the table, wincing.

Aramis nodded but he knew something else was bothering d'Artagnan but they all learned that when d'Artagnan isn't ready to talk, it's best to wait until he comes to you. A few more hands and Porthos came out as the winner. "Well, my friends, this day has been the best but I must bid thee farewell and retire to a nice bed."

The group nodded in agreement and after blowing all the candles out they headed upstairs. It was decided that they would all take turns in each room. With d'Artagnan's shoulder he thought it best to be in one of the small beds so he didn't roll around as much. Aramis said he would stay in the same room as d'Artagnan incase he needed anything and to make sure he didn't get an infection. Porthos took one of the large beds and Athos took the other. Once they've all settle in for the night, they all seemed to have fallen asleep. Except for d'Artagnan. He just lay there and for some reason stared at the closet door in front of his bed. His shoulder ached and finally what seemed like hours he felt himself doze off but just as he closed his eyes, he swore he saw the closet door open.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** First off I want to say THANK YOU to all that reviewed, follow, or like my story. I do hope to finish this by the time my classes start up because once they start I don't want to forgot about this story (like my other stories I forgot to finish) You all get cookies! I got this idea off the movie Dead Birds. A movie that actually doesn't make sense but it gave me this idea.

* * *

_"So what you're telling me is that you can not do anything for her!"_

_"Mr. Amyx, I'm sorry but this is beyond my skill. You're wife is not the first nor will she be the last to get the plague and we have yet to determine how to treat it," the physician explained. "My only advice for you is to be with her and your children during this hard time and pray."_

_Mr. Amyx got red in the face at the last advice. "Pray? PRAY? You want me to pray to God who is trying to take my wife from me? My wife who is the reason I'm breathing?"_

_"Sir, you have an eight-year-old son and four-year-old daughter who need their father in their time of need. Losing your faith is not going to help them."_

_Mr. Amyx threw his hands up in the air, all knowing his children were listening to them. "What about me? What am I suppose to do with two children on my own? Can't God see that I need my wife?"_

_"Mr. Amyx, I'm sorry but there is nothing I can do but let nature take its course. I will pray for you and your family and if you ever need any help, I know a few good friends who can help you deal with your loss." _

_"Get out of my house," Mr. Amyx said in a low voice. He didn't want to hear another word out the man and kept his eye on the kitchen table as he heard the front door close. His wife had gotten sick a few days and he's had every physician come in and try to help her but none of them could do anything. She was suffering from the plague that had already taken ten people from the town over. _

_"Daddy?"_

_He turned around to see his son and daughter walk hand-in-hand into the kitchen, eyes red and tears running down their faces. He sat down and just stared at them as they walked closer. He wasn't ready to raise two kids on his own and he wasn't lying when he said his wife was the reason why he was breathing. _

_"Daddy, is mommy going to see God?" his daughter asked. _

_"Not if I have anything to do about it." He stood up and walked out of the house._

**BANG! BANG!**

"Time to wake up boy!"

d'Artagnan opened his eyes and just looked at a wall, forgetting where he was for a moment and then remembered when he turned to his left side and felt his stitches pull slightly. He slowly sat and rubbed his face with his hands, wondering where that weird dream came from when the bedroom door opened and Porthos walked in.

"Damn boy. I've never seen you sleep past sunrise before. You feeling okay?"

"Yeah. Just had a really weird dream." He jumped a little when he felt a hand on his forehead and looked up to see that Porthos had walked over without him noticing.

"You don't have a fever."

d'Artagnan laughed. "You don't need a fever to have a weird dream, Porthos."

Porthos laughed and rubbed his hand through d'Artagnan's hair, messing it up even more. "Whatever. Just hurry up before Athos makes you train without breakfast." He walked out of the room to give the boy some privacy and headed down the stairs to the kitchen.

"Did you wake him?" Aramis asked.

"He should have with all the banging he was doing," Athos said. "I think you woke up the family in the town over."

Porthos grinned and sat down next to Athos, eyeing the plate Aramis made for d'Artagnan. "He looks like he didn't get any sleep last night." He slowly crept a hand towards the apple on the plate when he saw a fork coming down towards his hand and pulled back just as the fork stabbed the apple. "What the hell was that for?"

"I don't want to listen to him complain he's hungry an hour into training," Athos said, pulling the plate closer to him. He looked up when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs and waited for d'Artagnan to enter the kitchen but he never came in. Then he heard footsteps once more and this time d'Artagnan did walk into the kitchen.

"Please tell me Porthos didn't eat my food," d'Artagnan begged.

The three Musketeers looked at one another in confusion before Athos slid the plate he was guarding over to the young man. They just watched as d'Artagnan ate, not noticing their stares or confused faces.

"So what do we know about this house?" d'Artagnan asked, taking a bite of his eggs.

Aramis shook himself out of his state and sat down. "Captain Treville told me before we left that this house belonged to an old childhood friend of his, Joseph. After Joseph got married and had two kids, they only saw each other twice a month. He would come up to this house and spend the day with Joseph and his family until one morning he got word that Joseph's wife had died from the plague and he wasn't taking it too well. He grew distant from his friends and family, stopped going to church, and even stopped taking care of his kids. A few months later, Joseph was found dead in the cellar of the house and his kids nowhere in sight."

"Wow," Porthos said, sneaking a piece of d'Artagnan's bread off his plate.

"Since then, Captain Treville has been coming up to this house at lest twice a month and clean it up like new, feeling like he owed his friend something because he wasn't there for him when his wife passed away."

"So what you're saying is we are staying in a house where a dead guy was found?" d'Artagnan asked, sliding his plate towards Porthos after losing his appetite.

Athos stood up with a laugh and grabbed d'Artagnan under the elbow. "Ghost stories are over with, time to train."

"I thought we were here to relax? How is training relaxing?" d'Artagnan asked, rolling his eyes but followed Athos out of the house, grabbing his sword on the way.

"It relaxes us to know you can take care of yourself when we have to go on separate missions," Athos said, walking to a small clearing next to the barn and shed. "Draw your sword and lets begin. Remember, pay attention to where your opponent steps because sometimes his footing will tell you where he's going to attack next." And for four hours of non stop training, d'Artagnan was finally able to parry all of Athos attacks just by watching his footing and he only came out with a few cuts on his hand.

"So did you really leave a new recruit shaking in a corner?" d'Artagnan asked, taking a step back when Athos thrust his sword towards his stomach.

"Like I said before. If you think an enemy is going to go easy on you then you're wrong."

"Then how come you held back when you first started training me?"

"I didn't. That day you stupidly challenged me for your father's murder I didn't hold back. As for when we train, I figured you held your own fairly well that day before Aramis and Porthos stepped in so why not teach you the basics since you can actually handle a sword." Athos explained. "Keep your left hand behind you." To prove his point, he sliced d'Artagnan's exposed wrist. "We'll work on your left hand when those stitches come out."

"Why not now? Not like an enemy is going to go easy on me just because I'm injured." D'Artagnan put his left hand behind him, not because Athos said, but because he didn't want any more cuts.

Although d'Artagnan was right about that, Athos just didn't feel like listening to Aramis complain about him ruining his best stitching. "Because the enemy doesn't have Aramis."

D'Artagnan laughed, but knew Athos had a point. He finally got the upper hand over Athos and just as he was about to make the final strike, he heard the horses in the barn start to go wild. He looked at Athos, who also heard the horses, and they stopped their training and just stared at the barn.

"I wonder what's gotten into them?" Athos asked, walking towards the barn with d'Artagnan right behind him. He fed the horses that morning and didn't see anything in there, so something must have snuck in and spooked them. Just as he was about to reach the barn door, the doors suddenly blew open and the four horses inside trampled out full blast. Without thinking, Athos grabbed d'Artagnan and pushed him against the wall of the barn, keeping them both away from getting trampled.

d'Artagnan, for his part, wasn't even expecting anything like that. Sure a snake slithering out of the barn but not the horses trying to trample them. He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder from where Athos pushed him into the barn wall, hitting the stitches by accident. Breathing through the pain, he watched as the horses ran towards the house and then the door to the house swinging open and Aramis and Porthos running off the porch to catch them.

"You okay, d'Artaganan?" Athos was worried when he saw d'Artagnan scrunch his face in pain and realized he had hit his wound. Cussing himself out, he opened d'Artagnan's shirt to make sure he didn't rip any of the stitches and sighed in relief when they held, but just a small amount of blood seeped through.

"I'm fine, Athos." D'Artagnan batted his friend's hands away with a laugh. "Just hurts a little."

Athos nodded, accepting the answer before pulling him away from the barn. He knew Arami and Porthos would take care of the horse so it was up to them to see to the barn and figure out what happened. He looked around the barn but found nothing out of the ordinary.

"What do you think spooked them?" d'Artagnan asked, looking around the hay.

"I'm not sure, but whatever it is, it's gone."

"What the hell happened?" Porthos asked, walking up to the barn with two horses. Aramis was right behind them, the other two horses in hand.

"Something spooked them. How far did the horses go?"

Aramis brought the horses into the barn. "Not far, just passed the house and they just stopped. Are you guys okay?" He had seen his friends out of the corner of his eye up against the barn when he ran out of the house.

"You might want to check d'Artagnan's stitches from when I pushed him out of the way but besides that, we're good."

d'Artagnan glared at his friend when he mentioned his stitches and all he got was a laugh when Aramis grabbed him by the arm and ushered him out of the barn, saying something about ruining his good work. "It could have been worst you know. You could be stitching up my head or fixing a broken rib."

"I shouldn't be doing any of that or this in the first place," Aramis complained, opening the door to the house and pushed him into the kitchen chair. He opened d'Artagnan's shirt and looked at the stitches, nodding when he saw nothing ripped. "Just a little blood but I don't see any other problem." He got up and grabbed a wet rag and wiped the blood away. "I think you've had enough excitement for one day."

"Yes mom."

"I mean it, d'Artagnan. You were shot yesterday, training for nearly five hours this morning and almost trampled a few minutes ago. Go upstairs and get some rest."

D'Artagnan nodded in agreement, knowing sleep was the only time he was safe. He stood up, grabbing an apple out of the bowl on the table, before heading up to the stairs. He paused, wondering if he should go into the small room or take the big bed. Grinning, he walked into the room Porthos had and collapsed onto the bed but didn't fall asleep right away. He just kept staring at the apple in his hand and just let his mind drift, listening as his friends downstairs talked. Just as he was drifting to sleep, he felt like someone was touching his wounded shoulder and looked up to see an older man staring down at him.

"Who the hell are you?" For some reason, he couldn't yell for his friends or get up to defend himself. He just lay there.

"I am someone who can help you."

"Help me?"

"Yes. I can see the pain inside your heart, though you hide it, it's still there."

d'Artagnan was now starting to get annoyed and tried to move the hand off his shoulder. "Look I don't know who you are or how you got in here but if you do not leave in five seconds you will regret it."

"Even if I can help you see your father again?"

d'Artagnan paused at the last question, eyes wide in disbelief. "See my father?" He watched as the man grinned and then suddenly disappeared as the door to the room opened and Aramis walked in.

"d'Artagnan, who were you talking too?" He was walking up the stairs to see how d'Artagnan was doing when he heard his friend talking to someone but there was no one there. Not getting a response, he walked over to the bed and laid a hand on his forehead. "You're a little warm."

"I'm fine. Must have been dreaming." D'Artagnan batted Aramis hands away with a smile. "Now go away so I can go back to sleep." He rolled over, back facing Aramis to prove his point and listened as the door closed but his mind was still reeling over the fact he just saw a man, in the room, stating he could see his father again. He smiled as he felt his eyes close and thought that he would love to see his father again.


	3. Chapter 3

_The moment he opened his eyes, he knew something wasn't right. The air felt different, the bed felt different, and he felt different. He slowly sat up, taking in his surroundings and recognized the room as a room at an Inn. Outside, the rain beat down on the window as lightning lit the darken room and swung his feet off the bed, trying to figure out how he ended up in an Inn instead of the house. He heard some commotion down below and got up off the bed to investigate. Opening the door, the commotion turned into yelling and the yelling turned into the sound of a gunshot. Running down the stairs he saw feet running out the door and the body of a man lay on the ground. He took off outside in hopes of catching the person responsible for this mans death when he stopped at the doorway, eyes wide in fear. He knew this place. He knew this place very well and he also knew what was about to happen next. Slowly taking a step out into the rain, he turned this way and that, looking for the one person he knew would be here. _

"_This wasn't suppose to happen, you know," a voice said behind him. He spun around and came face to face with the one person he both wanted and dreaded to see. "A simple trip to Paris to help our people and this is what becomes of me."_

"_Father?" No, this wasn't real. His father was dead and yet here he was, standing before him. Alive. _

_Alexander d'Artagnan smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. "My son, are you alright?"_

_He shook his head. "This isn't real. You're dead. I saw you die with my own eyes and you died in my arms."_

_Alexander gave him a sad smile and squeezed his shoulder. "You are right, d'Artagnan. This isn't real but it can be. How many times have you thought I was alive only to wake up to realize it was all a dream?"_

_Too many times to count and he's hated it every single time. He's even gone as far as wanting to sleep all day just so he could see his father again._

"_What if I tell you that this dream right here, me standing before you alive and well, can come true."_

"_What? Do you mean it?" It was too good to be true but at the moment, he didn't care. His father smiled and nodded. Swallowing down the lump in his throat and holding his tears at bay he asked the important question. "How?"_

"_It's really simple. You must sacrifice someone to take my place."_

"_Sacrifice?"_

"_Yes. There must be a soul to take my place in order for you to see once more."_

"_Who?" Was he really asking that question? Was he really going to consider killing someone just so he could see his father?_

"_It doesn't matter, my son. As long as there is a soul to take my place it can be anyone. I will help you with everything you need." _

_d'Artagnan felt his fathers hand on his wounded and suddenly his entire world went white._

* * *

d'Artagnan's eyes shot open and he sat up, almost as if in a daze. He could hear his friends talking downstairs and the smell of food reach his nose but it really didn't register. He watched as a man walked in front of the bed, a scythe resting on his shoulders, and walked out of the room. He got out of bed and followed the man down the hall to the middle room where the two beds where and stopped in the doorway as the man raised the scythe above his head and brought it down on one of the beds where a small child lay. Walking over to the bed on the other side of the room, he did the same to the small child that lay there.

"I am sorry but this must be done," the man said. He turned around, staring straight into d'Artagnan's eyes, and nodded before picking the children up under his arms and motioning for him to follow.

d'Artagnan nodded and followed the man down the stairs, passed the kitchen, and stop at the door that had been locked upon their arrival. He looked up as the man pointed to the door and he walked over, turning the doorknob and opening the door. Walking down the stairs, he stopped at a landing and looked around the room. It was a small cellar, with tools and shelves on the wall while a desk leaned against another. The floor of the room was dirt instead of the usual hard wood like the rest of the house.

"This is the only way to see her. I can't live without her," the man said, walking passed him. Setting the children down, he walked over to one of the walls and pulled a shovel off before starting to dig a large hole in the middle of the cellar. Once the hole was dug, the man placed the children in it before covering them up with the dirt and stood before the freshly dug hole. Pulling out a knife from his back pocket, the man raised his arm and stared into his eyes as he cut his wrist, blood flowing down the blade and dropping on to the dirt.

"Come on d'Artagnan. It's time to wake up."

* * *

"I actually miss the garrison," Porthos said, taking a bite of his rabbit and a sip of wine. "Don't get me wrong, this house is nice and it's quiet but if there's going to be trouble, I would rather have it somewhere I'm familiar with and in a tavern fighting the Red Guards."

"For once I have to agree with you," Aramis said, leaning back in his chair, stuffed from dinner. "Why don't we just leave tomorrow?"

"As much as I agree with the both of you, an order is an order," Athos said, staring at his wine glass. He downed the liquid in one gulp and poured himself another. He actually had thought about disobeying the captain's order to leave the garrison for the week, but he knew how the captain got when it was time to train the new recruits and showing up when they were ordered not too would not look good on them in front of the recruits.

"All we have to do is tell Captain Treville that d'Artagnan is getting home sick and he'll let us back in no time. The boy had wormed his way into the captains heart and I'm sure Constance would help us," Porthos said with a laugh, pushing his empty plate to the side and pulling out a deck of cards and shuffled them up before passing them out. "So how long are you going to let d'Artagnan sleep?"

"I'm going to wake him up in a few minutes," Aramis said, picking up his cards. "I'm actually surprised his stomach didn't wake him after missing lunch."

"You and me both," Portho said, tossing in some coins. "That skinny little shit can eat every hour and not gain a pound."

Athos chuckled, but not disagree with his friend. He laid two cards down before taking a sip of his drink but stopped when he heard d'Artagnan walking down the stairs. "It seems d'Artagnan's stomach finally woke him from his slumber."

"Bout time boy," Porthos said, not looking up from his cards. "I was going to eat your dinner if you didn't get your skinny ass down here." He waited for the usual reply every time he talked about how skinny d'Artagnan was but it never came. He turned around his chair to see d'Artagnan walking passed the kitchen doorway and disappeared behind the wall.

"d'Artagnan? Are you okay?" Aramis asked, concerned for his friends lack of response and just the way he was walking wasn't right. He set his cards down, game forgotten, and walked up to the doorway to see d'Artagnan staring at the locked door they noticed the day they arrived at the house.

"Is he okay?" Athos asked, walking up to stand next to Aramis.

"I think he's sleepwalking." Aramis watched as d'Artagnan reached for the doorknob and turned it, opening the door that should have been locked. Tilting his head, he then watched as d'Artagnan walked down the stairs and disappeared from sight. Without seeing if his friends were behind him, he walked over to the door and just stared down the stairs, seeing d'Artagnan reached the bottom of the landing before turning to the go down another set of stairs. Aramis slowly walked down the stairs and saw d'Artagnan, just staring down at his feet in the middle of the room.

"We found the cellar," Porthos said from behind Aramis. "So what are we going to do about d'Artagnan?"

"Try to wake him up," said Aramis. He walked down the rest of the stairs and laid a hand on d'Artagnan's shoulder. "d'Artagnan, are you okay?" No response. Keeping his hand on the shoulder, he walked around to face the boy, Athos and Porthos wondering around looking at everything. He then placed both his hands on d'Artagnan's cheeks and brought his head up to face him so he could get a better look and was met with vacant eyes staring at something behind him, small tremors racked his body and his face red with fever.

"Well?" Athos asked.

Aramis didn't say anything but started to tap d'Artagnan on the cheek, trying to wake him up. "Come on d'Artagnan. It's time to wake up." He watched as vacant eyes slowly started to focus and felt d'Artagnan move his head a little before blinking his eyes. "You with us now?"

"How did I get down here?"

"You were sleepwalking," Aramis explained. "Now, why don't we get you back into bed so I can check your wound. I want to make sure it's not getting infected."

Athos watched as d'Artagnan followed Aramis up the stairs and turned to show Porthos a book he found on one of the shelves. Opening it to the first page, he showed his friend a child like drawing of what appeared to be a demon of some sort. "I don't know about you but I'm getting a very bad feeling about this house."

Porthos snorted and nodded. "I can see how d'Artagnan went pale at the mention of being in the same house a dead man was found. Not until we got down here. What are we going to do?"

Athos sighed and ran a hand threw his hair. "If Aramis is checking to make sure the wound isn't infected, that usually means it is, so we can't leave until d'Artagnan is fit to ride." He motioned for Porthos to head back upstairs to see to their friend but he kept looking back behind him like he knew someone was down there.

Porthos reached the top of the stairs and once Athos passed, he checked the doorknob to see that there was no way this door could have been locked. The front of the doorknob didn't have a keyhole so therefor it couldn't have been lock but yet it was. That is until d'Artagnan stood before it and it opened. Keeping the door open, he walked up the stairs and could hear Aramis and Athos talking.

"He's got all the signs of an infection yet I don't see an infection," Aramis said.

Porthos walked into the room just as Aramis got up and pace around room, hands running through his hair. He only did that when he was frustrated and didn't know what was going on. He smirked and walked over to the bed to see d'Artagnan's eyes open and watching Aramis's every move. Athos took his place next to d'Artagnan and reached over to the nightstand where a bowl of water and rag sat and picked the wet rag out and laid it on d'Artagnan's forehead.

"Did you know there is a way to see someone who has passed?" d'Artagnan asked, shifting a little to get comfortable.

"What do you mean?" Athos asked.

"My father. I can see my father again."

Aramis paused his pacing and look at d'Artagnan. "d'Artagnan, I've told you before there is no way to see our loved once they passed until it is our time."

d'Artagnan smiled as Athos moved the cool rag down to his neck. "Yes there is. My father even said so."

Aramis knelt next to the bed, running a hand through his hair. The last time they had this conversation was when d'Artagnan was delirious with fever from being pushed into a lake in the middle of winter and said he saw his father. "I know you miss your father, d'Artagnan, but you will see him when your time comes but that time is not now."

"My father would not lie to me," d'Artagnan argued. He tried to get up but Aramis and Athos wouldn't let him.

Aramis shook his head. d'Artagnan was getting himself all worked up and it was not helping his fever. Looking over at Porthos, he motioned with his head for his friend to take his place before getting off the floor and left the room, heading down the stairs.

"Please, Athos, I want to see him again." d'Artagnan hoped that his mentor would help him but all he got was a sad smile. He looked to Porthos for help but got the same thing. He turned his head when Aramis returned, glass filled with wine and had Athos and Porthos get up so he could sit.

"I want you to drink this," Aramis said as he helped d'Artagnan sit up and handed him the glass. He watched as d'Artagnan drank the wine and once it was half way done, he took it away. "Now, I want you to stay in this bed and get some sleep." Pushing d'Artagnan back down, he grabbed the sheets and pulled them up to his shoulders.

"Aramis, this is d'Artagnan we're talking about. He won't stay in bed even if he had a broken leg," Porthos said.

"He'll stay in bed. The herbs I put in the wine will help with the fever and help him sleep. I'm going to stay in here tonight incase he decides to take a midnight stroll."

Athos snorted but understand what Aramis was saying. He was putting sleepwalking on his list of things about d'Artagnan when he was sick; next to believe he was seeing his father. Walking out of the room and heading back down the stairs to the kitchen, he grabbed the bottle of wine on the table and downed it in three gulps. This relaxing week was turning into any but that. Sitting down at one of the chairs, he reached into his jacket and pulled out the book to open it to the first page, staring at the demon like creator. He didn't know what to make of it and he just started flipping through the pages when something caught his eye. Going back a few pages he saw another drawing done by a child's hand but this time that demon from the front of the page was now in the corner of a room, a bed in the middle of the page and a man in a hat standing at the foot of the bed. Staring closely at the drawing his face pale as he recognized the room. It was the room d'Artagnan was sleeping in now.


	4. Chapter 4

Athos didn't know when he closed his eyes or what woke him but when he opened his eyes, he was staring at two children, sitting at the table with the book he found in the cellar open and quills in hand. A little boy and little girl lifted their heads from the book and smiled before going back to what they were doing in the book before sliding the book over to him. He took it, his eyes never leaving the children, and opened the book passed the second page and looked down to see a new drawing. There on the page was a person lying on a bed, black scribbles coming from its shoulder. Turning the next page he saw another picture of the same person standing in front of a smaller bed with a person laying down, arms raised above his head with what looked like a scythe. Face going pale with realization he frantically went to the next page to see the same person with the scythe but this time it was a bigger bed with a person lying down. Turning the page once more he saw the drawing was now a kitchen, a person sleeping at the table and the person from the previous pages stood behind him, scythe raised above his head.

He raised his hands to mouth, now fully understanding but before he got up from the chair, the children shook their heads and pointed to the book. They wanted him to finish. Frantically turning the page he saw the cellar they were in a few moments ago, and three bodies lay on the ground in a hole and the person with the scythe now had a knife to it's wrist and what looked like blood dripped down.

BOOM!

Athos's body jerk with the sound of what sounded like a cannon ball hit the house and looked around the kitchen for the cause. Lightning lit the darken room and he turned to look across the table, expecting to see the children, but there was no one there. Rubbing his face with his hands, he stared down at the book and with shaking hands he opened it. The first two pages he knew and turned to the third, blood draining from his face at the drawing he's seen before. Hearing footsteps on the stairs he shot out of the chair, knocking it over, and stopped in the doorway when he saw the front door wide-open, rain hitting the porch and footprints leading from the door to the stairs. Darting up the stairs, taking two at a time, he checked the room d'Artagnan and Aramis were in but only saw Aramis sleeping on the bed. Where was d'Artagnan? Remembering the drawing he turned to the middle room and stopped when he saw d'Artagnan stand in front of the bed Porthos occupied, drenched and holding a scythe in both hands.

"d'Artagnan?" he whispered. He didn't want to startle the young man, not with the scythe in hand. He looked to the bed and noticed Porthos eyes wide open but not making a move or sound. Slowly taking a step forward and hands out he tried calling out again. "d'Artagnan? What are you doing?"

"This is not how I wanted to wake up," Porthos whispered, still not moving. He had heard the door opening and opened his eyes to see a soaking wet d'Artagnan walking into the room, scythe in hands. He was going to say something but then he saw Athos walking into the doorway and knew he was going to be okay. d'Artagnan, however, he wasn't sure. This was now starting to creep him out and truth be told, he wanted to leave the house now, storm and captains order be damn.

"Come on d'Artagnan. Give me the scythe," Athos said, stopping just arms length away from d'Artagnan. "You do not want to do this." He could see d'Artagnan shaking with each clap of thunder and wondered how he was going to get that scythe out of his hands. He heard Porthos start to sit up slowly in bed but never took his eyes off d'Artagnan.

"So what's the plan?" Porthos asked.

"Not get killed." Athos took a breath and took a step closer so he could reach out and grab the scythe, his hand over d'Artagnan's and started to pull the scythe and then all hell broke lose. d'Artagnan let out a yell and turned his body to face him, bring the scythe across his body as he went. Athos released the scythe and stepped back just in time but he didn't have time to recover as d'Artagnan started swing the weapon back and fourth, determination on his face. He felt his back hit the wall and knew he was trapped. He watched as d'Artagnan slowly made his way towards him, raising the scythe above his head and brought it down. Closing his eyes, Athos hoped death was fast, but nothing happened. Opening his eyes, he was met with the sight of both Aramis and Porthos holding d'Artagnan back, scythe disregarded on the floor.

"If this is how he's going to act when he's sick, I suggest letting Captain Treville watch over him for now on," Porthos grunted, trying to grab one of d'Artagnan's flailing arms. With Aramis's help, he was able to get behind d'Artagnan and grabbed both of d'Artagnan's wrists in one hand and pushed them into the boy's chest while wrapping his other arm around to pin his arms as well.

"He's not sick," Athos said, collecting himself. He pushed off the wall but stepped to the side when d'Artagnan used Portho as a support and lifted his body up to kick his feet out. When d'Artagnan kicked out again he grabbed his legs and held them still.

"Bring him back to the main bedroom," Aramis said, walking in front of them. He blocked out the screams that came from his young friend and waited until his friends brought d'Artagnan into the bedroom and placed him on the bed.

"Check his wound," Athos grunted, trying to hold d'Artagnan's legs down.

With Athos holding d'Artagnan's legs and Porthos pinning d'Artagnan's wrists above his head, Aramis was able to get to the wound and pulled the shirt to the side. The stitches looked okay and there was no blood but then he got a closer look and saw that the veins had a tint of black in them. He quickly grabbed his bag off the floor and pulled out a knife before going back to the task at hand. Taking a deep breath, he cut the stitches and gasped when black blood oozed out instead of red.

"What the hell is that?" Porthos asked.

"Perhaps the reason why our young friend wanted to kill you," Athos said.

"Whatever it is, we need to get it out of him," Aramis said, setting the knife down and pushing on both sides of the bullet wound, trying to get as much of the black blood out.

"NO!"

Without warning, d'Artagnan pulled his arms down so hard that he shoved Porthos into Aramis, knocking both of them to the floor. Athos, who wasn't ready for that as well, lost his grip on d'Artagnan's legs and got a foot to the chest, sending him to the floor. Getting off the bed, d'Artagnan took off out of the room and down the stairs. He could still do this. Running out the front door he looked around until he spotted the shed and took off to find what he needed to finish the job.

"Okay, what the hell is going on?" Porthos asked, getting off the floor and helping Aramis up.

"Aramis, do you recall anything Captain Treville might have said about his friend?" Athos asked, standing up. "Anything about how he died that you might have neglected?"

"He slit his wrist," Aramis said.

Athos nodded and motioned for his friends to follow him to the kitchen. He prayed that everything he's seen in the book wasn't part of too much wine. They reached the kitchen and he picked the book up, opening it before sighing and handing it over to Aramis.

"Where did you find this?" Aramis asked, flipping through the pages.

"In the cellar. I came down here once you got d'Artagnan settle in after the whole sleepwalking and I guess I dozed off because when I opened my eyes, two children sat here drawing in the book."

Aramis nodded and stopped at the last page, the page with three bodies in a hole and a fourth standing above them with a knife to its wrist.

"This is messed up. Forget the orders, we're leaving tonight," Porthos said, slamming his hand on the table. He knew what those drawings meant. He knew who those three bodies were and who the fourth was. There was no way he was staying in a place that could cause harm to his brothers.

"First we have to find d'Artagnan," Athos said. He had a feeling he knew where to look so he took the lead but stopped by the open front door at their swords and pistols. Picking up his sword he never thought he would have to protect himself from one of his brothers. Walking into the rain he took off across the grass and looked between the shed and barn. d'Artagnan could be in any of the two.

"Due to d'Artagnan not in his right mind, might I suggest we don't split up," Aramis said, shouting over the rain and thunder.

Nodding, Athos walked to the barn first, sword out and ready to defend himself. Opening the door, he peered inside before stepping in, Aramis and Porthos behind him. Looking around, he didn't see any sign of d'Artagnan and even the horses seemed to be okay.

"I don't see him in here," Porthos said, pushing some hay to the side with his pistol.

"If he was in here, the horses might have gone crazy," Aramis said.

"Lets check the shed. Be ready for anything," Athos said, walking back out into the rain. He walked over to the shed, looking through a window and saw d'Artagnan standing in the middle of the shed. "He's here." Slowly walking around to the front and opened the door.

"How come you don't want me to see my father?" d'Artagnan asked, when the three Musketeers walked in. He just stood in the middle of the shed, eyes black as ink and unseeing.

"It's not that we don't want you to see your father," Aramis explained, "it's just that we don't want you to se your father at the moment."

It seemed to not have been the answer d'Artagnan wanted to hear because the shed started to shake like the devil himself was angry. Lifting his right arm out, a shovel suddenly flew into his open hand and before anyone could blink, he hit Aramis in the side of the head, knocking him out.

"That's enough, d'Artagnan," Athos said, raising his sword.

"No. It's not enough. I'm going to make sure I see my father and you're going to help me."

Before Athos and Porthos could do anything the roof of the shed completely collapsed right on top of them. Athos lifted his head, fighting back the blackness that threatened to take over his vision but it was a losing battle. Just as his head hit the ground and his eyes closed, he saw d'Artagnan standing in front of Aramis with a demon like figure standing right behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

So not sound like a fan girl but two more days before The Musketeers DVD gets released so that means I have about a week or two before I finally get it! Okay, moment over.

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"It's not supposed to be like this. It's not supposed to be like this."

As Aramis became aware of his surroundings, it was those words that caught his attention. Opening his eyes and pushing back the headache he felt coming on, he focused slowly on the person rocking back and fourth in the corner of what should be the shed but there was something different about it from the last time he saw it.

"I don't know what to do. What should I so?"

As his eyes started to really focus he took in debris laying all around him, the rain now pouring into the shed, and d'Artagnan was the person rocking back and fourth in the corner. Slowly getting his arms under him he pushed himself up and looked around for his other two friends. He spotted them lying next to the debris and crawled over to them to make sure they were okay. Both the Musketeers had blood on their heads and scratches on their arms but nothing looked too life threatening. Knowing they were not going anywhere, he turned his attention to d'Artagnan.

"I can't do this. I can't do this."

As Aramis got to his feet, he pulled his pistol out and aimed it at d'Artagnan as he moved closer. As he walked he took in what he could see of his friend and saw his shirt was now completely covered in black while his breeches, hands, and face were covered in dirt. He was about an arms length away when he crotched down, pistol still ready for any unsuspecting movement.

"Help me Aramis. Please help me." d'Artagnan lifted his head, tears rolling down his cheeks as pain just shot through his body. He felt like something was inside of him and just tearing his insides apart. Images kept flashing before his eyes and the voices of three different people telling him to do different things. One voice telling him to kill everyone, one telling him he only needed to kill one, and one was a combination of a boy and girl telling him not too kill anyone.

"You need to tell me what's wrong if you want me to help you."

"It hurts. It hurts and I don't know what to do."

Aramis nodded and set his pistol down next to him as he looked around the ruined shed. He spotted some rope close by and reached over to grab it, eyes never leaving d'Artagnan. "Does your wound hurt?" A nod. "Alright. Now I want you to listen to me very carefully. Do you understand everything I'm saying?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember everything that has happened?"

"Yes."

"So you know what needs to be done?" Aramis held the rope up and waited for a reply.

d'Artagnan eyed the rope and flinched as lightning lit the open room. He didn't blame Aramis for not trusting him, not after everything he's done but it was like someone had taking control of his mind. Shivering like he was cold on the inside he nodded and held his hands out, knowing this was the only way to get the help he needed. He felt the rope wrap around his wrists, very tightly and then his arms were raised above his head and stayed there.

"Are you doing okay?" Aramis asked, making sure d'Artagnan's bond wrists stayed on the hook above him.

"I think so. How are Athos and Porthos?"

"They will wake up with a major headache like I did but they are fine. It is you who we are worried about," Aramis said, slowly peeling back d'Artagnan's shirt to get a better look at the wound. He gasped at the black veins and the black blood oozing from the wound and was amazed d'Artagnan hadn't passed out from blood loss.

"What's wrong with me, Aramis?"

"I'm afraid I don't know but I promise we'll find out." Aramis ripped off a piece of his shirt and held it out under the rain, when it was wet enough; he started cleaning around the wound. He ignored the gasps and flinches until he had the wound clean and studied it. The black veins were looking to be a problem. He knew this wasn't an infection and medicine couldn't help so it was up to him to figure it.

"Oh man, what hit me?"

Aramis turned around and smiled when he saw Porthos moving to sit up, Athos starting to stir next to him. They always seemed to have the best timing to help him. "I believe you had the pleasure of a roof falling on your head. I'm actually jealous."

Athos grunted and sat up, trying to get his bearings when he spotted Aramis crotched in front of d'Artagnan, the boy's wrists tied above him on a hook. Slowly getting to his feet, he helped Porthos up and they both walked over to their friends. "So what's going on here?"

"Well, d'Artagnan finally decided to join us and at the moment I'm going to see if I can be of some assistance." Without warning anyone, Aramis pressed his hands on both sides of the wound and pushed the black blood out. He heard d'Artagnan gasp, throw his head back, and try move to get away from him but Athos and Porthos were not having it. Concentrating on the task at hand, he pushed more and more black blood out, having to move his hands to get a better grip as the black blood covered his fingers.

"Are we sure this is what's wrong with him?" Porthos asked, hands holding d'Artagnan's wrists to the wall as Athos held his torso still.

"At this moment I'm all about trying anything," Aramis said. He smiled when he finally saw the black veins fade and soon red blood started to flow from the wound. Tearing off more of his shirt, he wetted it with rainwater before cleaning the wound once more, pushing once again to make sure no there was no more black blood. Tearing off a longer piece of his shirt, he wrapped it around the wound, hoping it would stay until they reached an Inn.

"Please tell me that was a good sign," Athos said, hand running through d'Artagnan's hair in a comforting manner.

"One way to find out." He reached up and looked d'Artagnan in the eyes. "How do you feel?"

d'Artagnan smiled, not one of those evil smiles but a genuine smile. "The voices and images stopped." It was true. He felt like himself once more and no more voices or images. He felt his arms being lowered and the ropes untied from his wrists.

"Okay, everyone is okay so can we please go?" Porthos asked, rubbing d'Artagnan's wrists.

Athos nodded and helped d'Artagnan stand up when he noticed how dirty he was. "d'Artagnan, where did you get all this dirt from? It's not from the roof collapsing."

"I don't know. I remember going back into the house but I don't remember what I did in there. I just remember coming too in the shed with you guys knocked out."

They all looked at one another before ushering d'Artagnan out of the shed, going back to the house. They were going to collect their things and leave, storm or no storm. Walking back in, they noticed footsteps going down to the cellar and for some unknown reason, followed.

"Why are we going down in the cellar?" Porthos asked. He ran into d'Artagnan's back, almost knocking him down, but grabbed him by the shoulders and looked up to see why d'Artagnan had stopped. In the middle of the cellar was a freshly dug hole, large enough to fit three bodies.

"I…I was down here. I dug that hole," d'Artagnan said, shaking. "I was going to bury you guys."

"But you didn't," Aramis reminded him. He put his arms around d'Artagnan as Athos walked forward, stopping at the hole and looking down.

"I think we just found where Josephs children went," Athos said with sadness in his voice. He heard his friends walking over to him and pointed down to two sets of small skeletons before turning his head to Aramis, "Aramis."

Aramis was already one step ahead of his friend. He pulled out his Cross he wore and started to pray for the children, praying they now found peace when he heard d'Artagnan gasp and back up, hand going to his chest.

"d'Artagnan? What's wrong?" Athos asked, grabbing d'Artagnna by the elbow.

"I don't know. I was fine until Aramis took the Cross out and started to pray." D'Artagnan took a step back from his friends, not trusting himself. That feeling of being split in two came back, but full force. Needing to get away, he took off up the stairs, ignoring his friends' shuts. He made it to the front door when he felt something slam into him, sending him into the wall and his arms twisting behind him.

"Hurry up Aramis while I still got a hold of him." Porthos was actually struggling to hold d'Artagnan still while his friends made their way up the stairs. When d'Artagnan took off from the cellar he was right behind him, not wanting him to get away again. He pulled back so he could restrain d'Artagnan to his chest when Aramis walked up to them, the Cross he wore around himself now held in his heads.

"d'Artagnan, you need to calm down," Aramis said.

"NO! GET AWAY FROM ME!" d'Artagnan screamed. He saw the Cross and knew what they were going to do. Kicking out, he tried to keep Aramis away from him but it was no use. He had managed to get passed his kicks and soon the Cross was being lowered over his head. The moment the Cross touched his skin, he felt like it was burning his entire chest. "GET IT OFF!"

"You guys got d'Artagnan?" Athos asked.

"Yes. Get our stuff," Aramis said, making sure d'Artagnan didn't get free from Porthos grip.

Athos nodded and took off up the stairs to grab their bags. Walking into the room d'Artagnan was sleeping in last he grabbed his bag from the floor, going down the hall to the middle room and grabbed his and Porthos bag. He walked into Aramis room, looking for his bag and spotted it under the window. When he went to pick it up, the door to the room suddenly slammed shut. After getting all bags secured he walked over to the door and tried to open it but it wouldn't open. It was locked. He turned around when he heard a laugh behind him and a dark mass in the corner of the room.

"No one will leave this house," the mass growled.

"That's where you're wrong," Athos said, not the lest bit afraid. "You are the one that's responsible for everything that has happened here and then."

The mass laughed, moving closer to the Musketeer as he spoke. "The plague was my best idea yet. Loved ones dying and mortals selling their soul just to see them again. It fed my hunger and in turn made me stronger so I didn't need the plague anymore. Just the weak hearted."

"d'Artagnan is beyond weak hearted." Athos touched his chest, feeling the comfort that was there.

"Oh but he is. Everyone has a weakness and his was his heart." The mass was now right on top of the Musekteer. "I can also see into your heart at the pain you try to hide."

"I might try to hide my pain but I recognize that it's there. There is no shame in pain or weakness." Reaching under his shirt, he pulled out the Cross Aramis had given him down in the cellar and held it up to the mass, walking towards the mass as the mass moved back. "Everyone has a weakness and yours just so happens to be faith in God. I might not have much faith but I do know when to believe and trust." He heard the door open and without a second thought, took off out of the room and ran down the stairs.

"Everything alright?" Aramis asked. He was sitting on the floor next to d'Artagnan's twitching body. Porthos was standing above them in a protecting manner with his hand on his sword.

"Will be when we leave. Is he alright?"

"Yes. Just worn out from fighting a brick wall," Porthos laughed. "You got everything?"

"Yes. Lets leave."

Porthos nodded and knelt down, sliding one arm under d'Artagnan's shoulders and one under his knees and lifted him up. Walking out the door and back into the storm, he walked over to the barn, Aramis running in front of him to open the doors. Waiting for Aramis to get on his horse, lifted d'Artagnan up so his friend could grab him and put him in front of him.

"I got d'Artagnan's horse," Athos said, grabbing d'Artagnan's horse and getting on his own. Once Porthos got on his horse they all took off into the storm, passing the house as they went. He took one last look behind him and could have sworn he saw two small children in the upper window, waving at them.


	6. Chapter 6

Yay for last chapter and yay for awesome people reading/reviewing/everything else.

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"Oh my goodness, did you boys ride in this weather?" a plump little woman asked as three men drenched from head to toe walked in and one cradled in the bigger mans arms.

Aramis, Athos, and Porthos, who was holding d'Artagnan against his chest, walked into the first Inn they've seen in an hour. They wanted to get as far from the house as possible and someplace they felt safe and comfortable. Soaking wet and shivering a little they breathed a sigh of relief when they saw the small Inn.

"I'm afraid we got caught in the storm and this was the first Inn we've came across," Aramis said, taking his hat off and bowing to the plump little women that greeted them.

"My goodness, get by the fire and get warm. I'll have my sons bring in some clothes we collected from people who forget their thing." She shooed them and then looked at d'Artagnan's limp form. "Is the boy okay?"

"I'm afraid we got ambushed on our way here and my friend took a bullet to the shoulder. He's okay though, just very tired." Aramis laughed when the women threw her hands up, mumbling about robbers in the woods and called for her sons. He took off his jacket and set it up by the fire and helped Porthos with d'Artagnan.

"He stopped twitching and mumbling," Porthos said, taking his jacked off and then d'Artagnan's.

"Actually, he stopped the moment we passed the house," Aramis said. He was amazed at his friends turn around the moment the horse galloped passed the house and once they reached the path, d'Artagnan seemed to have relaxed.

Athos brought over three chairs over as his friends set d'Artagnan on the rug in front of the fire. The boy was shivering but somehow he knew it was from the rain and not what just happened at the house. He looked up when two small boys ran over with blankets, shirts, and pants.

"Here you go misters," one said.

"Thank you young sir," Aramis said, taking a blanket.

"Mother said there is a room upstairs ready for you if want to change and get warm," the other said, looking the pauldrons that came off with the jackets. "Are you Musketeers? That's so cool. Father said I can be a Musketeer if I start listening and eat all my dinner."

Porthos laughed at the child's enthusiasm and patted him on the head. "My boy, you act as if you are a Musketeer already by helping us." He nodded to his friends and knelt to pick d'Artagnan up once again. Being careful as he made his way up the stairs, he followed the children to the first door. Once inside he took in a table, chairs, a large bed big enough to fit at lest five grown men, and a night stand.

"I think I've found my new resting spot," Aramis said, walking in behind Porthos. "Place him on the bed and go change. Agatha is going to dry our clothes for us."

Porthos nodded and did as he was told, placing his and his friends wet clothes out by the door. "Where's Athos?"

"Purchasing us some fine wine and a hot meal," Aramis said. He pulled a chair up to the bed where a shirtless d'Artagnan lay and looked at the wound. Now that he didn't have to worry about the black veins he could concentrate on stitching up the wound once more and feel better knowing he wouldn't have to cut them off again. Just as he was starting to stitch, Athos came in, two glasses of wine and wine glasses.

"Dinner will be up shortly," he said, setting the wine and glasses on the table. He walked over to the bed and watched as Aramis stitched his young apprentice. "If this is the trouble he gets into now I'm afraid of the trouble he'll get into once he's a Musketeer."

"I thought about that too and I have a solution," Porthos said, pouring everyone a glass of wine.

"Oh, and what is that?" Aramis asked, looking up from his work.

"He goes wherever we go and we don't let him out of our sight."

"That might actually work," Aramis said. He just finished the last stitch when he heard d'Artagnan moan and open his eyes. "Well, look who decided to join the land of the living."

"Where are we?" d'Artagnan was confused as to what room he was in. This wasn't the room at the house and then everything came back to him. Images flashed before his eyes of the ambush, getting shot, seeing his father back at the Inn…The Inn! He shot up in bed in panic, fearing he was back in the dream but this time instead of seeing his father dying he would see his friends die. They had to be dead because he last remembered was digging a hole in the cellar of the house, a voice telling him to bury his friends.

"Calm down, d'Artagnan. You're okay. We're at an Inn," Athos said, grabbing d'Artagnan by the shoulder. He waited until he felt d'Artagnan calm down, taking deep breaths, before releasing him.

"Are you okay now?" Aramis asked.

"I thought I was back at the Inn again but this time you guys were dead."

"Well, you'll be happy to know you can't get ride of us that easily," Aramis said, "and as to where we are, we're at an Inn an hour ride from the house. You gave us a scare I must admit."

"Sorry."

"Of course you are," Porthos said. He looked up when he heard a knock at the door and one of the little boys opened the door with a tray. "Ah, our little Musketeer once again."

The boy just laughed and placed the tray on the table and saw d'Artagnan awake. "Are you okay mister? My brother and I thought you were dead."

"Jeremiah! You do not say such things," Agatha said, walking into the room.

"It's alright," d'Artagnan said with a smile. "I actually felt a little dead to begin with. I am feeling much better now."

"That's good. Father said a good drink always helps make a man feel better."

"Oh your father is going to get a such a talking to when he gets home." Agatha then turned to the Musketeers. "I will have your belongings sent up once they are dry."

"Thank you," Athos said, smiling at the pile of food on the tray. There was just enough to feed an army, or in their case Porthos and d'Artagnan. "You know my friends very well because this is just enough to hold them over for about an hour."

"Ha ha," Porthos dryly laughed. "I'll have you know I'm a growing boy."

"Porthos, d'Artagnan is a growing boy," Aramis laughed. "Are you hungry?" At that moment he heard a growl and d'Artagnan blushed. "I'll take that as a yes. I can't remember the last time you ate."

"Where did you ride from?" the boy asked.

"We came from the house about an hour away from here," Athos said, sitting down to eat his dinner. "It belongs to a close from of our captains."

"The old Amyx house?" Agatha was just about to leave when she heard where they just came from.

"Yes. Our captain granted us leave for a week and said his friends house was open for us."

"My boy, you must be thinking of another house. That house burned down just last week."

The room got quiet as the Musketeers looked at the woman before looking at one another. Surely she was thinking of another house because the house they came from was standing.

"Burned down?" d'Artagnan asked.

"Yes. Lightning from the storm last week struck it and it burned to the ground." She watched as the men looked at one another when two of them stood up, apparently they were going to investigate when the one lying on the bed spoke up.

"Athos. Porthos. Please do go back there," d'Artagnan said, not hiding the fear in his voice. He didn't want his friends to go back there and not come back because he had a bad feeling they wouldn't come back.

Athos just sighed, not liking to cause fear in d'Artagnan, so he nodded at Porthos and sat back down. "Alright, we won't go back there tonight."

"Thank you."

"If you gentlemen need anything, please come get me or my sons. Come Jeremiah, lets give them some peace."

"Good bye."

The door closed, leaving the four friends to themselves. After the food was eaten, and wine drunk, d'Artagnan had fallen asleep during one of Porthos tails of when he became a Musketeer. All thee looked at one another and decided they better turn in as well. Aramis got in next to d'Artagnan as Porthos got behind him and Athos got behind d'Artagnan. With the storm outside getting stronger, the rain had managed to lull them to sleep.

The next morning Athos and Porthos rode out at sunrise, hoping to get there and back before d'Artagnan woke up. They knew he didn't want them going near that place ever again but after what they've just been told, they had to check it out.

"There's no way it burned down," Porthos said, riding next to his friend.

"I know but Agatha swears it burned down," Athos said, turning down the familiar path.

"Everything that happened in there did happen."

Athos did say anything when they were coming up to the house. Just up the hill and he will see the house standing tall, just as it did last night, with two children by the bedroom window. He stopped his horse, face gone pale at the sight before him and heard Porthos gasp in shock. Before the two Musketeers, there was nothing. No house, no well, no shed, and no barn. The barn and shed looked to have been torn down by human hands, wood all chopped up and left. The well looked to have been taken apart rock by rock, leaving a hole in the ground. The house was nothing but rubble. No smoke coming from it so it didn't burn down last night in the storm.

The two Musketeers looked at one another. Agatha was right. There was no house.

* * *

"How the hell could you let them go back there?!"

Aramis was doing his best to calm his injured friend down but not having any luck. He woke up when Athos and Porthos left and hoped d'Artagnan would stay asleep, but leave it to a farm boy to wake up at sunrise.

"Calm down d'Artagnan. They just wanted to see for themselves."

"I don't care! They said they wouldn't go back."

"Well, Athos said they wouldn't go back that night, not this morning." Aramis laughed when d'Artagnan threw his hands in the air and then threw himself back on the pillows, glaring at him. "d'Artagnan, I promise you they will be okay."

"I don't want them anywhere near that place."

Aramis sighed, knowing where this was going, and moved to sit on the bed, pulling d'Artagnan to his side. "d'Artagnan, we know that wasn't you and we know you would never hurt us on purpose. You were not in control of your body. From what I gathered, you were promised a chance to see your father again and only a fool would pass that up. Joseph brought a dark force into his house thinking he was doing himself good when it only hurt him and his loved ones in the end."

"Then what does that make me?"

"It makes you a survivor," a new voice said.

Aramis and d'Artagnan looked up when Athos and Porthos walked in, taking their hats off and pulling two chairs towards the bed.

"How does me hurting you make me a survivor?"

"Because you fought it. You asked Aramis for help and accepted it. Joseph had a chance to seek help but decided to turn against humanity and against God," Athos said.

"Wow. I've never heard such words coming from you, my friend," Aramis said, making everyone laugh.

"I've been hanging around you far too long," Athos replied with a smile.

"So, what's the verdict?"

"There was nothing," Porthos said, rubbing his face. "Just like Agatha said, it was burned down and looked to have happened last week."

d'Artagnan paled and just looked at his two friends, hoping they would say they were joking but they never such words. "S…So what really happened while we were there?"

The three Musketeers looked at one another before Aramis spoke up. "A miracle. It seems that there were two spirits there that needed help and showed the house to anyone with a strong mind to help them."

"Why me?"

"Because you still miss your father and the evil in that house did what it was brought fourth to do. It prayed on your pain and twisted it for it's evil doings but it forgot one thing. The one thing Joseph had pushed away."

"What was that?"

Aramis looked at his friends, his brothers, and lifted his hand up. "Friends."

d'Artagnan smiled and laid his hand on top of Aramis, Athos and Porthos soon following. Yes, he might still miss his father and still wishes he could see him, but with his friends by his side, he knows he will see him one day, but now was not that day.


End file.
